by Arthur Stone
Cheater was tired of losing time.
Yes. Alone is the way to go. The party had fought with other players twice during the first day, and had nearly all perished in the second fight. Now, someone was quite possibly pursuing them. And all of the strongest infecteds for dozens of miles again were in a mob on their tail. Infecteds were persistent enough that they could spend a week in such a pursuit. Some would even push through black clusters in search of their quarry.
The stronger the infected, the less it feared the black.
Cheater did not mind dying here. It might even play out to his benefit. He had ways to detain the creatures for the maximum possible duration. The tunnel had an abandoned train within it, and they had no time to clear it, so they would leave all of the vehicles, heavy weapons, and ammo behind. It would be a good fight. That would give his companions additional hope of successfully crossing.
He would help his team, and he would gain a boatload of experience. None of the pursuers he had seen were weaker than a veteran raffler. Runners, despite their name, had fallen far, far behind. They could not endure long distances.
I want to be alone, Cheater was realizing more and more. He had never thought that March’s continual vagaries would put such a strain on him. The composition of the party was revolting. Cheater generally stayed out of people’s personal lives, but he had tried to talk some sense into Gangrene at one point. And Goblin. The former was always bullying Nipple. He did not hesitate to slap her, even in full view of everyone else. The healer was his lapdog. Goblin, for his part, always sang the same tune as Gangrene did.
They were an unsettling trio. Cheater hated being around them. Yes, a healer was a good addition to the party, but this one wasn’t worth it.
Plus, what did he care about one death? He had a decent number of extra lives by now and an excellent array of skills that perfectly suited a loner.
Cheater did not spend much time thinking on these things. There wasn’t much time to spend. He confidently announced that he would be able to delay the pursuing beasts for a long time if they were stretched out, rather than in a group.
They should be stretched out, as some would be faster than others.
March surprised him then. He ordered Gangrene and Goblin to stay and provide cover.
They turned him down.
“To hell with that,” Gangrene snapped. “Staying means certain death, and we didn’t come here to die.”
“Everyone has a role to play.”
“We don’t owe you a damn thing. You stay behind, if you want. We’re going,” Gangrene insisted.
“We can handle things without you, but Nipple is coming with us.”
“I doubt she’ll want that.”
“She’s a big girl. She can decide for herself,” March replied.
“Nip, do you really want to go on without us?”
The girl shook her head hurriedly, staring up at her tormentor in horror. “See, old man? She’s with us. Do you really think you’re the first man we’ve run across looking to steal Nipple from us? Everyone tries to pull that. But Nipple and me, we have an iron bond. Even if you kill me, she stays with me. If you need a healer, I come along. Package deal. So look elsewhere for sacrifices. I didn’t come here to die. Tell your friends to die, if you need someone to die so badly.”
To Cheater’s surprise, March took this mockery calmly. As if he had expected it.
He turned to Cheater. “So you’ll be staying here alone.”
That was strange. Even with these three, March was up to something, but what?
As usual, he had no idea.
Chapter 21
Life Nine. A Fortress of One
Cheater had fought from a dead end before. March had reminded him of the story. That location had been underneath a large city, and the ghouls had rushed in one after the other, alone or in groups. It was their lack of unity that had allowed him to fight back, despite the massive numerical odds against him.
Also, he had been fortunate enough to find a combat vehicle at that dead end, left there by a group of players who had perished. It had a large-caliber machinegun with plenty of ammo, along with numerous other weapons. The resulting fight battered Cheater badly, but he won.
He watched his companions hurry into the tunnel, then turned around and shook his head. On one side of him, a sheer cliff of rock rose vertically into the air. On the other side, the same. They met here at an acute angle, and a railroad coming from the right entered the mouth of the tunnel. All of the creatures following the party would only have one vector of attack against it. It really was reminiscent of that old underpass.
That was good, from one point of view. He would be unable to hold off two directions of attack, but here, he had a chance.
In fact, his chances seemed better than last time.
All of the vehicles had to be left behind. The tunnel was narrow, with only enough room for one track, and that was occupied by an abandoned train. A motorcycle could squeeze alongside it, but not a truck.
March had predicted this, so only Clown was truly upset. He had spent a lot of time with those vehicles and was reluctant to abandon them.
Almost on the run, Nut rigged several oil tanks and other flammables to blow and explained to Cheater how to detonate them. The tanks by the station and in the tunnel were all so rigged. The most important thing for Cheater to remember was to blow them up in the right order.
At that, the preparations were done, and the party left without saying goodbye. Only Clown looked back, longing in his eyes. He suspected that he was missing out on a fascinating show, and rightly so. However, Clown’s skills would be needed up ahead, beyond the black clusters, where they would need to look for new transportation. They would be unable to arm their new vehicles fully, but they did collect the pair of machineguns from the pickup. They were not difficult to adapt to use by hand.
Cheater was left with the Devils’ truck they had taken in place of their mobile artillery setup, along with the pickup truck, though without machineguns. That was not to say that it contained no weapons at all. It was now much more dangerous than before: it held the Nold turret. That weapon only had eight shots left, but given their power, and the ease of aiming at a single, narrow attack vector, it was a lethal item in his arsenal.
Cheater’s quad machinegun had been switched to single-barrel mode. This was not to save on ammo. He had plenty of ammo, nearly three thousand rounds. But he would have to maintain the weapon by hand, and reloading was a difficult and extended process. If he was physically attacked when he was out of ammo, he would have a bad time.
The infecteds had not arrived yet, and Cheater hastily laced the land with the mines the party had parted with. There were not many of them, but anything would help.
He looked at his watch. Eighty minutes had passed. No ghouls. March had feared that the first ones would arrive less than an hour after they reached the tunnel.
Something had delayed them. Had they gotten confused trying to follow the party’s trail across the pavement? Had they stopped the chase? No, that wasn’t like them.
He would wait for them at least another hour or two.
Of course, the infecteds were not the only problem. Those who placed a Mark on Cheater might also show up, if the Mark was indeed on him.
If it was not a figment or March’s imagination—or machinations.
* * *
By Cheater’s count, the ghouls appeared during the eighty-second minute. When he saw them, he understood why they had been delayed.
It was troublesome news.
They had lost the trail. Or rather, they had lost speed along the trail, as they struggled to follow it. As a result, those with the best sense of smell had moved slowly, noses to the pavement—while all the younger infecteds danced around them impatiently.
Cheater wiped his brow. The danger of the pursuing beasts had been greatly exaggerated.
There was no way this group could take a party of players.
It wasn�
��t even worth the sweat he was breaking. They were a rabble, with a clear lack of beasts wielding search abilities. Those in charge were barely more advanced than pet dogs, as far as their noses went. At their pace, they would not only have never caught up—they risked losing the trail at any moment. The party could have left them here in front of a collapsed tunnel and none of them would have ever thought to cross the mountains.
Once the beasts reached the rails, they became excited. The smell of humans was stronger there, since Cheater and his party had trampled around, inspecting the cars—and from before, when the digis had worked here, day in and day out. But these were spaghetti tracks, leading no single way in particular, so they tried to puzzle out a direction to follow. About two hundred yards away, now, Cheater watched them wander in circles, stumped. They did not notice him, even though he was so close. He had not even activated Chameleon, and stood out in the open, leaning up against the machinegun. Making no effort to hide.
This pitiful fuss lasted about a minute before one of the creatures, almost a manmincer, went alert and froze, on its tiptoes. It worked its nose like a rabbit’s, moving its head slowly. A fresh human scent had caught its attention.
Cheater was not so filthy yet as to attract them from acres away. At this distance and with the windless weather of the day, such detection required an amazing nose.
The beast turned towards the mouth of the tunnel. It was too far for him to see small details, but he thought he saw the ghoul’s eyes glitter.
The direction it should continue its search in had become clear.
Straight at Cheater it rushed.
That made him hesitate. What should he do? He had assumed the creatures would be dispersed in a long line. A chain, pulled by the link at the front, followed by groups at intervals. That would have prevented the ghouls from accumulating in large batches.
Yet due to the incompetence and thus sluggishness of the vanguard, too many infecteds had arrived at once. Nearly a hundred, by Cheater’s lowest estimate. About half of them were developed rafflers, about a quarter were tramplers of various sizes, and biters and manmincers made up the rest. That was unpleasant: developed creatures were not easy prey for his machineguns. Perhaps there were indeed more ghouls incoming, and he had woefully underestimated his adversary. There could be hundreds, or even thousands. Buildings and trains blocked his vision.
Should he hit this batch with the Nold turret? It didn’t have many rounds left, and he doubted the ghouls would keep formation as they rushed him.
Perhaps he could delay the start of the fight. Only one ghoul had smelled his position so far. That one wasn’t even sure—it was not grumbling to summon its fellows. Alone it moved towards the tunnel.
He could take it out quietly. Take cover behind the vehicle and attack with Choppa, point blank.
That would buy him some time. Time to think, and time to devise a better idea.
As he thought, though, the decision was made for him. The infected was gaining confidence as it approached the vehicles in a straight line—and stepped on one of the mines.
The explosion was not too strong and did not even take off the beast’s leg. It was clearly in pain, and furious. Toppling, it uttered a frightened grumble. It probably assumed it had been shot by some projectile—or, it smelled Cheater for sure now.
Whatever the situation, the rest of the infecteds turned towards the blast and started moving, grumbling back in response. Even though the manmincer’s rumble had not been loud, somehow all the rest had heard it from afar.
Choppa was out of the plan.
Time to shoot.
Cheater plopped down into the metal seat and pressed down on the trigger pedal.
He had never fired this kind of weapon before. In addition, only one of the four machine guns was active, which affected his aim. He soon corrected, and his Accuracy came through, especially over the short distance. With the first burst, Cheater took off a raffler’s head and knocked down a trampler.
Good start.
This finally gave away his exact position.
Now they moved in haste, inspired by the clear sight of their prey. Cheater hit one burst after another, trying to keep the movement of the machine gun to a minimum. Unlike the antiaircraft gun, this turret did not swivel quickly. Every move had to be precise and purposeful.
More mines exploded, but they had little effect on the crowd. Some fell, and others were crippled, but most rushed on unhindered.
Cheater realized he would not have enough time: Not even if all four guns were active would he have time to kill half of them. There were too many targets, some of which could take a volley of 14.5mm rounds, and they were spread too widely. Many would die, but the rest would overrun him. Perhaps he could take a Shard of Invulnerability along with Helping Hand, as he had in the Devils’ fortress. But using such an invaluable trump card just to kill a pack of infecteds containing zero elites seemed like a waste. If he did not die in the resulting conflict, the cooldown was long, and he might need a shard as he moved towards the border. It was there that the most trouble was to be expected.
Perhaps it was the wrong decision, but it was made. Two hundred yards was next to nothing for an infected. The only reason Cheater had not resorted to his sword yet was that the infecteds had taken some time to accelerate.
Now, they would be on him any second.
Time to change tactics.
Cheater cleared the back of his nest’s platform in a single leap and cat-landed in the pickup bed. He steadied himself by grabbing the side—right in the place he had cut into with Choppa. The sheared metal tore into his palm, but he ignored the wound.
The Nold weapon was ready. He mentally lauded his foresight in activating its circuit ahead of time. Clown had insisted on waiting to activate it, since idle time was not good for the turret. But Cheater knew that once the hour of need arrived, he would not have a spare minute to wait for the circuit to warm up.
Not that he really knew how it worked, but he had some assumptions.
He aimed at the fastest target: a powerful manmincer. Now that he saw it run, he considered that it might be a young elite. It had overtaken all of the others by a dozen yards, even though it had not started in the lead.
He braced for the deafening effect and fired, then scanned a bit to the left before the impact even hit. As he fired the second shot, a wave of hot air assaulted his face. He felt as though he were bathing in a foundry furnace. Yet the heat was not fatal.
This thing is incredible. It was barely larger than an automatic grenade launcher, but it had the power of a rocket with thermobaric warhead. Heat covered the land for a hundred yards around.
He shot a third time, and a fourth. Then, finally, a fifth. Five bank-breaking shells had intersected the narrow gorge with a wall of fire, and dozens of ghouls perished within it. Not a single one leaped out from the inferno. Cheater was eighty yards from the nearest impact, but still he was completely deaf. His eardrums screamed silently at him. The effect on his body, too, nearly sent him to the floor. If he were a rookie player, he would have gone head over heels, but his Strength could handle heavy weapon recoil and blasts of heat.
The flames disintegrated into isolated fires as quickly as they had surged into being. In the area visible amidst the remaining plumes of orange and smoke, Cheater saw infecteds. The back rows of the crowd had survived, but the shockwave had caused them to stop. Some tossed and turned on the ground, but others had simply frozen, watching the barrier of fire with agitation on their faces.
Cheater selected the two densest collections of creatures and fired at them with consecutive shots. Instead of unleashing its projectiles, the Nold weapon crackled with electricity.
Cheater instinctively jerked his hands away, looked down, and saw the installation was cracked, smoking, and reeking of burnt components and chemicals. He had no idea what had happened, other than that the weapon was broken.
And that it could not be fixed, or at least not quickly.
Mentally cursing Clown’s work, Cheater jumped deftly across to the truck and took up the machinegun once again.
The flames were just dying out into smoke signals, and the creatures started to spread out and run once more. There were far fewer of them than half a minute ago—but still too many.
He glanced left. Shit. New infecteds were now running in from behind the station and the stopped trains. Cheater had not known that more infecteds were so close. The reinforcements had no end in sight.